Disenchanted
by Moondanser83
Summary: Something is wrong with Harry, something that sends him into a panic... but are things really as they seem?


**Disenchanted**

The door was locked. It was not an unusual lock, simply a lever connected to a series of small gears, but still it secured the large wooden door leading to the western tower. Harry frowned and waved his wand again.

"Alohamora." He said firmly.

Nothing. Harry strained his ears, desperate to hear the tell tale click of the locks tumbling into place, but was met with silence. He lowered his wand and pulled on the door, it remained inexplicably locked. Harry paced back and forth in front of the door randomly stopping and pulling on the handle, it remained firmly closed. Frustrated, Harry shoved his wand into his back pocket and picked up his invisibility cloak from the floor. Grumbling, Harry made his way back to Gryffindor Tower .

Harry sighed when he reached the portrait of The Fat Lady. He had no desire to face his friends, or anyone else for that matter. In the midst of this new crisis he simply wanted to go to his room and pull the blankets over his head. After a moment Harry took a deep breath and recited that password. As the door opened Harry wrapped himself in the invisibility cloak and tiptoed into the common room. He saw Ron and Hermione sitting at one of the large tables surrounded by books, but made a line directly for the dormitories. At the foot of the stone steps Harry froze when he heard someone whisper his name.

"Harry." Hermione said quietly.

Harry spun around and was surprised to find Hermione standing directly behind him.

"Harry," she said again quietly, "why do you have your hood pulled all the way down?"

Shocked, Harry pulled the hood from his head and looked down at himself. Where he had expected to see nothing was his body. The silky cloak hung from his shoulders, multi-colored strands glistening in the dim light. Harry twisted and turned, looking at every inch of his body, and stifled a cry when he realized he was perfectly visible.

"Hermione," Harry said, his voice quivering, "what's happening? Why can you see me? I think something's wrong with me."

Tears began to fill Harry's green eyes that were already wide with shock.

"My wand wouldn't work either." He whispered as the tears slid down his cheeks.

Concerned, Hermione wrapped an arm around Harry's shaking shoulders and steered him towards the table where Ron sat with a puzzled look shadowing his face. As Hermione gently directed Harry into a chair she pulled the cloak off his shoulders and folded it neatly. Harry dropped his head onto the table and covered his face with his arms.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, looking back and forth between his friends, "What's wrong with Harry?"

Harry moaned dramatically.

"He's having," Hermione paused, "issues."

"Issues?" Ron asked, obviously confused, "What kind of issues? Girl issues, health issues?"

"Magical issues." Hermione replied flatly.

Harry groaned again.

"It's gone." He said without lifting his head, "My magic, it's gone."

Ron stared wide-eyed and bewildered.

"What do you mean gone?" Ron asked, panic sliding through his voice.

"Gone!" Harry shouted, his head whipping up.

A hush fell over the common room as all heads turned to hear what Harry was yelling about. Harry's head landed back on the table with an audible thud, his arms once again hiding his face.

"It's gone," he whispered into his arms, "I have no more magic."

"I still don't understand." Ron went on, "What do you mean by gone?"

Harry let out a deep breath and turned his head to face Ron.

"I mean that my wand would have better use as kindle for the fire." Harry whispered as tears once again slid down his cheeks.

Ron gasped and pulled his own wand out of his robes.

"Accio quill." He said quietly, and breathed a sigh of relief when the feather zoomed into his hand.

Hermione reached over and plucked the quill from Ron's grip.

"Take out your wand Harry." She said firmly.

"Why?" Harry asked with an exasperated sigh, "It doesn't work."

"We're going to test that." Hermione responded, her voice calm. "Come on, humor me."

With another sigh Harry pulled his wand from his back pocket as Hermione placed the quill on the table a few feet in front of him.

"Now summon the quill." Hermione instructed.

"Accio quill." Harry said half-heartedly and flicked his wand.

Nothing, the quill remained stationary.

"Do it properly." Hermione demanded.

Harry sat up straight and changed his grip on the wand.

"Accio quill." He said firmly as he flicked his wand once again.

The quill did not move, it did not twitch a single feather. Harry looked at Hermione in teary desperation.

"What's wrong with me?" he cried out before fleeing the common room.

Harry threw himself onto his bed sending the surrounding curtains swaying with the motion. He lay there, face down, sobbing into his arms. Ever since the September after he had turned eleven Harry had relied on his faithful wand, and never once had it failed him. Now he was unable to produce a simple summoning charm. He had been disenchanted, the magic was gone.

When Ron walked into the dormitory he found Harry still sprawled across the bed, his face buried in the blankets.

"Harry." Ron said quietly as he sat beside his friend. "Harry? Are you all right?"

"They'll toss me out," came the muffled reply. "they'll send me back to the Dursley's and it will all be over. No more magic, no more Hogwarts, no defense against Voldemort." Harry's head shot up.

"With no magic I'll be dead within the week." Harry cried, his eyes just a little wild. "Once Voldemort finds out I'm defenseless He'll attack for sure."

Ron shuddered at the name and tried to hide his panic. The concept of the Chosen One being defenseless against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was too much for him to handle.

"Don't say that Harry!" Ron nearly shouted, "Hermione will figure something out! She always does!"

Ron's voice rose an octave with each statement until he finally screeched, "Dumbledore! He'll be able to do something!"

"No!" Harry yelled, jumping to his feet, "Once Dumbledore knows he'll have to boot me out!"

Ron recoiled from the force of Harry's statement.

"You're right." Harry said after a moment of silence, his voice frighteningly calm, "Hermione will be able to fix this." Without another word Harry turned and left the dormitory.

He entered the common room with Ron close behind him. Both quickly made their way to the table where Hermione still sat, idly twirling the quill between her fingers.

Harry dropped into the chair beside her.

"Help me," He begged, "Fix it. Please."

Hermione put the quill down and turned to face Harry.

"Go to bed." She said calmly, her eyes never leaving Harry's. "Get some rest. I have some research to do." Hermione began to gather her things, "With a little luck we should have this sorted out before the weekend is over."

She picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder, and walked out of the common room. Harry blinked at the spot his friend had just vacated then turned and looked at Ron. Then with the obedience of a small child Harry rose and walked back to the dorm. Ron sat for a moment, then feeling foolish, he got up and followed Harry out of the room.

When Ron entered the dormitory Harry was all ready changed and in bed staring up at the ceiling. Ron said nothing; he simply walked to his own bed, changed into his pajamas, and climbed in. Both boys lay there, silently staring at the ceiling.

After what seemed like an eternity Harry took off his glasses, put them on the night stand, and closed his eyes.

"Good night Ron." Harry said quietly, and willed himself to sleep.

Harry dreamed of Quidditch. He dreamt that is was the next sat and the match was about to begin, but Harry could not get his broom to rise. The rest of the team stared angrily at him thinking that he was doing it on purpose because he didn't want to play Slytherin and Harry turned and ran from the locker room in tears. He was walking down the hallway leading from the locker room when he heard someone calling his name.

"Harry." The voice echoed through his head, "Harry!" The voice said more forcefully.

The voice was familiar and tore Harry from his dream.

"Damn it Harry!" He heard Ron say, "We're going to be late!"

Harry opened an eye, "There are no classes on Saturday."

"What are you talking about?" Ron exclaimed, "It's Friday and we're going to be late for Potions!"

Ron ran from the room leaving Harry blinking after him. _Friday? How can it be Friday?_ Harry wondered. Hesitantly, Harry rolled onto his side and picked up his wand.

Holding his breath Harry twitched his wand.

"Accio glasses." He whispered.

Harry jumped when his glasses soared off the nightstand and bumped into his hand. Harry bolted out of bed and shoved the glasses onto his face.

"Accio robes!" He shouted, and grinned when his robes flew from the foot of the bed and into his out stretched hand.

"It was a dream!" Harry cried, "It was all a horrible dream!"

Harry looked around the empty room. Everyone had all ready left for class. Hurriedly, Harry threw on the robes he held and ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. He grabbed his books, and grinning like a fool, Harry ran out of the dorm trying to think of an excuse for his tardiness. Harry knew that Snape would never accept his excuse, regardless of how imaginative it may be, but he didn't care. Harry was just happy to be heading to magical classes that morning, just like every other teenage wizard.


End file.
